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User blog:Thantosiet/Power Rangers: Lost Ninjas/Episode 31: A Good Samaritan
Last time we saw the Season Ninjas... After a kidnapping gone awry, Dean's Zord was apparently destroyed, and he ended up in the trashed Persephone Café, where Alice found him. February 17th, Crane Boulevard, Scrimshaw, 11:54 pm The car ran over a bump, and Alice felt the boy stir against her shoulder. Street lamps and the headlights of other cars glowed and faded as they drove down the dark road. Uncle Monty was just a mannish silhouette in the front of the car. "I think he's waking up," she said. The boy's eyes opened, and slowly, he sat up. Alice unlooped her arm from around him, feeling suddenly self-conscious about how close they'd been. White patches of gauze and medical tape stood out against his dark skin. "Who are you? What's going on?" He asked. "I'm Alice Harod, that's my uncle Monty. The hospital was crowded and they said your injuries weren't severe, but they couldn't find your family, so we offered to take you back to our house to recover." The boy studied her for a long minute. His expression was guarded and wary, as if he expected them to suddenly announce that he now owed them his right hand. Alice smiled a little, hoping to put him at ease. The car bounced again: its springs had been shot a long time ago. "Why?" "You needed help," Alice said, as if it was obvious. "I mean, you kind of landed on our doorstep—" "Fell through the front window, actually," Uncle Monty said. He didn't sound happy about it. "They'd have broken whether or not he fell through them, stop bellyaching," Alice retorted. "He shouldn't have been out during a Ranger battle at all, and now we've got his hospital bills to deal with." They turned into a dark neighborhood. The houses were small but tidy, with trim little bushes and flowering plants. Resting his head against the seat, the boy relaxed. He looked drowsy, probably thanks to the painkillers the nurse had given him. "Don't mind him, he's just sour because we just finished the last set of repairs yesterday," Alice told him. "What's your name?" "Dean Rider." He looked out the window. "Sounds like an action hero name," Alice said. Dean didn't comment. "How are you feeling? I don't want to bug you if you're tired, just seeing if we'll have to carry you inside." "I can walk." "Should we call your family or anything?" Alice asked. "I'm alone." "Oh. You want me to shut up now?" Dean shrugged. "Doesn't matter." "I do," Uncle Monty said. Alice stuck her tongue out at him as the car pulled into a garage. Unbuckling, Alice hopped out of the car and hurried around to Dean's side. She guessed that he was acting tougher than he actually felt, and was proven right when he stood up and almost collapsed. Alice slipped an arm around him, setting her shoulder under his. He tensed at her touch. "The nurse told me the drugs might make you dizzy. We've got some steps to get up. I can help you, if you want," Alice said. Dean swallowed hard, and nodded once. Slowly, Alice walked him to the inside door, up the three steps and into the kitchen. Uncle Monty turned on the lights, and walking ahead of them, opened a door in the hall. "This way." Dean wobbled, but kept walking, almost pushing ahead of Alice. The door led to a small guest bedroom, trim to the point of almost being girly. According to the clock on the nightstand, it was just after midnight. Alice turned down the bedding with her free hand and helped Dean sit. Mumbling thanks, he took the covers as she swung his legs up onto the bed. "Okay, good night," Alice said. "Tell your uncle I'll make it up to you," Dean added, as she walked to the door. "I don't have any money, but I'll help out if I can." "Thanks—but not till you're feeling better," Alice replied, giving him a quick smile. She switched off the light and pulled the door almost shut. Turning, she tiptoed back into the kitchen, where Uncle Monty was making himself a midnight snack. "If it makes you feel any better, he's offered to help us to pay us back," Alice whispered. "He can barely walk by himself right now; somehow I don't find that very comforting," Monty replied. Alice rolled her eyes. "Did you even look at him? He's got plenty of muscle, and he's barely even hurt." "Guess I'll take your word for it. You two got pretty cozy in the back." Uncle Monty set a couple of refrigerated dolmathes on a plate. The leaf wrappings crackled. "Uncle Monty, are you trying to imply something?" Alice asked, eyebrows raised. "Just making an observation." "Well, I was planning on telling you later, but after those twenty minutes together, we've fallen hopelessly in love and we're going to get married tomorrow. I know Dean was unconscious for most of that, but we just know it's meant to be. That okay with you?" "Oh, fine, and I'm sure your parents will approve too." "Yeah, I'll email them about it in the morning. Good night." Turning, Alice walked to her room. February 20th, Persephone Café, Scrimshaw, 3:15 pm "Dean? I need an opinion: would shutters or windows made with those little diamonds of glass work better?" Alice asked, looking the front of the shop up and down. Sweeping another mound of broken glass into the dustpan, Dean shrugged. "Dunno. Don't know much about architecture or interior design." "That's okay, just pick one so I can tell Uncle Monty." Dean dumped the glass into a large trash bag with a tinkling crunch. "Then . . . shutters." "Thanks!" Alice headed back into the kitchen, leaving Dean alone in the front of the café. Straightening, he winced and rolled a shoulder around. He'd been working for an hour and still hadn't found his morpher. Had the Thinker gotten it? And if he had, why hadn't he taken Dean as well? Either the guy didn't know where he was—maybe even thought he was dead—or didn't want to retrieve him yet. Why? The Thinker didn't seem the type to give vacations, and Dean wasn't hurt badly enough to need special medical attention. He got back to work cleaning up broken glass. Honestly, he still felt sore from the fight days ago, but whenever he showed any signs of pain Alice got annoyingly motherly. He still didn't understand why she seemed so concerned about him. She had barely even let him out of bed for the first day. Speak (or think) of the devil, Alice came forward, grabbed the trash bag and tied it shut. Looking at the empty windows, she sighed. "Uncle Monty says we can't afford to put in anything but screens for a while. Why can't those Rangers do their jobs?" "You don't like the Power Rangers?" Dean asked, surprised. "Not so much, no. They may be good at beating up bad guys, but every time they fight, the city—our café—gets trashed. We can't afford to rebuild every couple of days like this." Heaving the bag over her shoulder, Alice headed to the dumpster in the alley. To his surprise, Dean felt a twinge of guilt at Alice's words. He told himself not to be stupid; he was just doing what was best for his school. If it was anyone's fault, it was theirs for surrendering to Korassil. Besides, if he hadn't stepped up, someone else would have, and they might be even more careless about hurting civilians. Somewhere in the back of his mind, Dean knew he was rationalizing, but he ignored it. Thinking about Terra Academy made him remember his morpher again, and he decided to try something a little risky. "Alice?" He called, as she came back inside. "Huh?" "I think I lost something when I crashed here. Have you seen a . . . well, it looks kind of like a cellphone, but it's on a wrist strap and it doesn't have any buttons or screen. It's mostly black, has a red coin with white spirals on it?" Alice stopped and frowned thoughtfully. "Maybe? Unless it was broken I don't think we'd have thrown it away, but it might have gotten picked up by someone else. If I see it, I'll let you know." Dean nodded once, and got back to work. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Alice go back into the kitchen. As he finished clearing out the broken glass, a feminine shout snapped him out of his thoughts. "Alice?" Dean looked up, and to his surprise, recognized the Yellow Ranger. She vaulted through one windowframe, and looked around at the café with a wince. Straightening, Dean slid automatically into a fighting stance. She hadn't seen him unmorphed before, but she might still recognize his voice. "Hi. Are you helping Alice? Can I join you?" She looked at Dean with interest. He didn't move, and she frowned, visibly confused. "Are you okay?" "Sienna!" Alice exclaimed, emerging from the kitchen with an empty trash bag. She joined the pair. "This is Dean. He's staying with us for a little while." "Cool. Sienna Lacy," Sienna said, holding out a hand as if she expected Dean to shake it. He just looked silently at her. After a moment, she lowered her hand, looking a little offended. "Dean, replace the trash bag in the kitchen, will you?" Alice asked, handing him the trash bag and pointing. Glad to escape, Dean went. Uncle Monty was in the basement; Dean could hear his whistling from the stairs. Alice was speaking in a low voice to Sienna, and he guessed she was making excuses for him. Whatever; he was used to people thinking he was weird. He pulled out the full trash bag and tied it shut. "What was that?" Alice asked, coming up behind Dean. He shook out the new trash bag. "Why do you care?" "Because I like having my friends get along with each other." Dean looked at her in surprise, and she raised her eyebrows. "What? Do you think I'd fuss over you like a mother hen if I didn't at least like you?" "Not many people do." "Then you need to find better people. Now, will you please let me introduce you to Sienna properly? I get it if you're introverted, Sienna's kind of high-energy, but you can at least be polite." Well, Dean told himself, he might learn something useful about the Yellow Ranger if he tried to get to know her out-of-morph. He'd never been the friendly type, but he could make the effort. Who knew, perhaps that was the reason the Thinker had left him here. It seemed to be working for Alex in Castle Ridge, after all. He nodded, and taking his arm, Alice steered him back to Sienna. "Sorry," Dean said, as they approached. Sienna gave him an encouraging smile. "It's okay. Sorry I startled you." Dean shrugged. "So, what can I do to help?" "You're helping too?" Dean asked, surprised. "Why not? It's summer, it's not like I've got any schoolwork or anything," Sienna replied. "Well, now that there's three of us, I think we can get started on all this debris," Alice said, gesturing to the chunks of concrete and metal piled up against the front of the café. Realizing this was almost certainly where his morpher had gone, Dean climbed over the pile and began tossing the smaller chunks of rubble aside. They were heavy and jagged, but he just dug. It wasn't as if a few more cuts would make a difference. "Hey, wait five seconds, we'll need gloves and stuff," Alice interrupted. "It's in the back." "I'll call Tyler, see if he can help," Sienna added, pulling a phone out of her pocket. "Great. Don't touch anything till I get back," Alice said to Dean, already running towards the kitchen. Dean nodded, and stood up straight, eyeing the rock pile. If he acted too eager, the Rangers might get suspicious—and it looked like he'd be dealing with two at least, if Tyler joined in. So far he couldn't see any sign of his morpher. Hopefully it hadn't broken or been stolen. After Sienna finished her phone call, Alice returned with gloves, shovels and an empty bin, and the three began digging. They worked in silence for the next few minutes. Dean started to work up a sweat, and his back grew stiff and achy. He'd hit the window back-first, and though being morphed had shielded him from the worst of it, he was still covered in bruises. He recognized a few bits and pieces from the Copperhead Snakezord, but no morpher. Hearing a car engine, Dean stood up straight as a pickup truck pulled up against the curb. Sienna beamed as she saw the car. Sure enough, Tyler hopped out of the shotgun seat and hurried over to the others. "As soon as I told my uncle where I was going, he offered to let us use the pickup to get rid of the debris." "Awesome! Here, help me with the bin," Sienna said. Watching them, Dean realized abruptly that he could just attack now. Even without his morpher, a geyser from the café's water pipes would scald them to death before they'd even realized what was happening. He'd still have to deal with the White Ranger, but alone she'd be much easier prey. That was when Dean felt a hand on his arm. He jumped and spun around to see Alice looking up at him. She had that concerned-but-hiding-it-to-not-embarrass-the-guy look on her face again. "If you want, you can take a break now. You've been working longer than anyone else," she said. Dean looked from her to the two Rangers and back. Somehow, he didn't want to attack them—not here and now, anyway. The least he could do was let them clean this place up. They'd be more tired when they'd finished, after all, and he'd fight better if he was rested. He nodded, and Alice led him around the mess to one of the inside tables. Sitting back, Dean watched the other teenagers start loading the pickup. Tyler's uncle—a balding, arguably overweight and very tanned man—got out to help as well. Running a chalky hand through her hair, Alice hurried back to issue directions, making sure they didn't damage the café any more as they worked. Without realizing it, Dean found himself watching her more than the others. It was a weird thought, but it felt like it had been a long time since anyone had just been nice to him like Alice was—or put this much effort into it. There was his Mom, but she'd always supported him, it was kind of her job. He hadn't gotten to know anybody at Terra Academy like that, except maybe Master Vincent. "What's this?" Tyler picked something up and turned it over. Dean didn't have a good view, but the thing was black and small enough to fit in the other boy's hand. Eyes widening, Tyler turned towards Sienna. "Look at this." As Sienna looked, so did Alice. The brunette's face lit up. "Hey, Dean, is this the thing you were looking for?" Dean sprang to his feet and joined the group. It was dented and dirty, and the wrist strap had broken, but the device was unmistakably his morpher. Sienna and Tyler exchanged glances, and both stared at Dean with a distinctly less friendly look. So much for infiltrating the team. Dean push-kicked Sienna in the stomach, making her double over with a grunt. Shoving her into Tyler, he snatched his morpher out of the Orange Ranger's hands. Tyler's uncle made a grab for him, but Dean ducked under his wide arms. Springing back, he held the morpher against his wrist. "Terra Storm, Ranger Form!" The red light faded as his visor snapped shut over his face. Tyler's uncle shouted something, and everyone recoiled. The other two Rangers struck fighting stances, but didn't morph. Of course: secret identities. "You?" That was Alice. Dean looked over at her. She looked surprised in a bad way, but more than that, disappointed. In a weird way, it bothered him—but recovering, Dean drew himself up. He'd deal with this later. Before Rangers or civilians could do anything to stop him, Dean ninja-streaked past them up the street. He didn't feel like destroying the Persephone Café any further. However, it turned out to be a moot point: just as Dean landed, he felt himself teleporting away. He materialized on the dark bridge of the Thinker's ship. Abandoning his fighting stance, he raised his visor to see better. The Thinker walked into view, and looked him up and down. "I was wondering if you'd survived; your lifesign is too indistinct to locate in a crowded city, and when not in use your morpher is all but untraceable. Good job finding it. You'll have to debrief me on the details." Dean nodded and demorphed. Even that quick run had tired him out, and his old injuries flared up when his suit vanished. Seeing the way Dean carried himself, as well as the remaining band-aids and gauze strips, the Thinker moved aside to let him leave the bridge. But as he headed for his quarters, the man called after him. "Why did you run?" Dean halted. "Outnumbered." "I see. I'll expect a full report once you've rested." With a nod of acknowledgment, Dean left the bridge. He needed a rest—a long, long rest. Hopefully he'd tired himself out too much to think. It felt like he'd been doing far too much of that recently. Category:Blog posts Category:Power Rangers: Lost Ninjas